


Oh, Time (suddenly we got no time)

by tukimecca



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Pining, its the 'remember july 12 vlive'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 22:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19777546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tukimecca/pseuds/tukimecca
Summary: It’s July 9th and Xuxi thinks about what he and Mark could be





	Oh, Time (suddenly we got no time)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Believe (I’ll be over you)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16474382) by [tukimecca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tukimecca/pseuds/tukimecca). 



> This is totally self-indulgent-kind of writing because I miss them so bad and it’s July 12th and I’m sad lmao. I haven’t written anything in forever (maybe in the last 3 months), I’m rusty, and I should not leave 1 day gap between starting and finishing this bcs the later half of the story feels detached from the first one.
> 
> Also, I’m bad at making conversation. I know. I need to get back into practice, and I consider this one.
> 
> No beta. I’m atrocious. Apologize for any grammatical mistakes, timeline or place inaccuracy.

_Sometimes these things don’t work out_  
_Sometimes there’ll be no one else_  
_They said we’d never even make this far but here we are_

Sixteen - Ellie Goulding

:::

Huang Xuxi is just a man. He’s a fool, riddled with holes called a mistake. He’s made many mistakes in his life. Leaving Mark included. His sweetest one to date.

Although, if he had to be honest, often times he finds himself not considering leaving Mark to be a mistake; letting himself think of leaving Mark as a mistake itself is the mistake. For something to be a mistake, it has to be wrong. Xuxi let himself think staying with Mark is right, not wrong. He let himself think that way because he's in love with Mark. Pathetically, irrevocably so.

That's wrong. Not right. He's not supposed to fall for Mark, not supposed to be enamored with the boy. Not supposed to let the boy gave him a head when he's stressed and cranky and tension too high over the roof to function properly.

But he did. Let Mark gave him a head. Let himself asking for more. Seeking. Begging. And Mark let him.

That was the mistake. Leaving Mark wasn't. Isn't. It won't be.

And another time when he's not considering that, he finds himself thinking that; yes, leaving Mark is a fucking mistake, sweet it might be, fucking hurt him it still.

He thought he'll get over Mark fast and easy, just like how they decided to leave things at limbo and status quo. Just like how he had fucked Mark when they didn't have time. Just like how they decided that once Regular promotion started, they should end it once and for all.

He didn't though, not yet, not today. He couldn't. He tried; moving on, seeing someone else, falling in love. He thought if he painted the abstract painting he had created in his delirium when he was in love with Mark, he could move on, could forget the boy and stop listening to that _move on and don't look back_ playlist on Spotify.

But he couldn't because whenever he started to try, whenever he started picking up the brush with someone new, he'd start thinking about Mark as well. Would start thinking about how it was never black and white with Mark, how it was always coded that got him thinking, mind reeling, heart jumping as he let himself lost in the feeling. He missed the thrill, sought it, craved it. Missed not knowing what to do, where to look, and what to say. Sought the touch, the kiss, the sound that Mark made when they're one.

He craved for the longing, yearning, the constant need to be in Mark's presence and fearing their time was running it. It did, ran out, their time. For him and Mark, they know their time was borrowed. Secretly, that's what made Xuxi loves him even more; he didn't have time so he had to give Mark all that he got. It might be three months, but he gave Mark three decades worth of love. Centuries even if humans could live that long, the bottom line is that it was as much love as Xuxi could give and then some.

It was less than Mark deserved because surely, someone as magical as Mark deserved so much more. Xuxi can't even give him the _L_ word; Mark didn't let him. _They didn't_ let each other was more appropriate. For their circumstances. For their situations. They knew they're never meant to be, to begin with and on Mark's end, he never let his heart participated.

Xuxi knew he lied though, knew because it's fucking obvious for so many reasons, like Mark Lee doesn't and cannot fucking lie, like Mark was always down for a cuddle no matter how little time they got, like Mark was always looking at him like a child with toothache looking at candy; the look of wanting something so bad but he can't because as badly as he wanted it, it's bad for him.

Mark wanted him as much as he wanted Mark. He loved him so much, too much even. It's the kind of love that stripped him bare, down to the bones and then some. It's as much as he'd give Mark; anything if not everything. What Mark wanted, Xuxi would give. What Mark asked, Xuxi would answer. When Mark told him, "this is it," _the end,_ Xuxi said, "yes." _this is our end._

And he left. Their time was up, they got nothing more to spare. Mark left to America then later, when he's back in Korea, Xuxi left to China. He tried then, when he wasn't seeing Mark as much, to get over him, find someone else to replace him, to erase him.

And maybe that's why Xuxi failed, maybe that's why Xuxi's still seeing Mark in the practice room mirror, still hearing Mark in the hallway, still thinking about Mark when he heard a love song. Everything reminded him of Mark, the warmth of someone else's skin, the sound of someone's voice, the words of someone's story, they all became the passage that delivered his memories of Mark. His feelings for Mark.

Today is not any different, if any, it's worse because he wakes up and catches the date on his handphone screen; _July 9th_

And because he's still seeing - _always fucking seeing_ \- Mark on his ceilings, he opens his kakaotalk and types;

_Hey, remember we did vlive last year_

He presses send, to Mark, because they still see each other in the hallway when they got no mountains and ocean between them. Because they talk to each other in the practice room, grab lunch, even spend some weekend together when they got nothing else to do and nobody else got no time to spare.

Yes, they're still friends, talk and act as friends do. They just stopped fucking but Xuxi never stops feeling, Xuxi never stops wanting, yearning, falling, loving. His heart never stops aching for Mark like Mark's touch never stop lingering, like Mark never stop haunting him.

But Mark, Mark no longer look at him like he's simultaneously something that Mark wanted the most but also is something that's gonna end him. Mark no longer treat him like he's a bad habit that needs to be stopped. Mark touched him like it doesn't matter, talked to him like he's just talking about the fucking weather when Xuxi could hardly look at Mark without thinking about how nice it'd be to kiss those lips. Again. Like they did before.

Yes, Huang Xuxi is a fool. A certified one. Mark has obviously moved on, has opened another page in his life - maybe even a new book, and Xuxi is not part of it. Mark Lee has begun painting a new picture while Xuxi hasn't finished his sketch; heck, he can't even fucking pick up the pencil, how's he supposed to make one?

He wished he could lie to himself. He wished by telling himself every day that he hates Mark he can really hate the boy. He wished he could stop chasing after Mark, wished he could begin something new, feeling something new with someone new. But he can't. Well, he's a fool and this is one of his many mistakes; he didn't even really try.

It's not Mark's fault if the other boy easily replaced him. Not Mark's fault if he lost his place already. It's him for being stupid and foolish and for letting himself be that way for a long time. It's not Mark's fault either if he doesn't reply because he's busy. He doesn't even know what time it is in Paris, is he even awake? Is it even July 9th there?

_Maybe not_

He adds before tossing his phone at some random direction, prays it lands somewhere on the bed instead of the floor. There's no loud, cracking noise, just small, dull thump - so he's safe. The wellbeing of his phone away from his mind, he's back getting muddled in the thought of Mark.

Mark. He misses him, so bad and so dear. His shadow dancing cruel and clear in his head, Xuxi falls asleep again.

:::

Xuxi doesn't check his phone again until somewhere in thirteen before he resumes his practice. He sees many notifications for his kakaotalk. It could be Mark. Or not. He has dozens of chat in kakaotalk. It could be anyone. It doesn't always mean Mark.

He opens the app, telling himself not to hope but the fool called Huang Xuxi does so anyway; _you don't just stop when they told you to stop. You just hope when they told you not to hope._

Some scrolls later, he scorns himself; _I told you so._

Mark hasn't replied.

:::

_I do_

_Actually_

Mark doesn't reply to him until late at night when he's about to fall asleep, they had long day preparing for the fan meeting tomorrow and he's drained to the bones, worn to the core. Sicheng has fallen soundly asleep, tired as he is, and not wanting to disturb his gege, Xuxi tries to be as quiet as possible.

_You do?_

_‘m watching it_

Not even a minute later, he's walking on the tightrope of ruining his plan.

Mark is fucking watching their vlive together.

Fuck. What should he do? What should he say? Mark always had a way of getting him tongue-tied just like he had his own of making Mark flustered. A skill that currently he's not in possession of because he's too busy floundering over,

_Yes I do_

Fuck.

_Why_

"Fucking fuck," he whimpers pathetically. And quietly, he doesn't want to wake Sicheng up.

_YOURE WATCHING IT._

He typed in all caps. A front. A bluff. He's not panicking. Not at all. Just trying to be loud and funny but on text.

_Just wondering_

_Xuxi, you don’t “just wonder”_

_You remember_

_I do_

_Why_

Xuxi lets yet another quiet curse out of his mouth, follows it with, "calm down Xuxi, calm down, stay in character." _Don't get your hope up. Don't you fucking dare because you've been there so many fucking times; it's time to fucking stop._ He types,

_Im hard to forger I knew it_

_*forget_

Good. Typos. Really in brand, he feels like giving himself some pat on the back. He's so fucking smart. He might be a fool for Mark, and has made himself a fool in front of Mark, but there were times when he was as slick as butter, which Mark actually called him greasy for, he just needs to embody them now.

_Youre really watching it?_

_REALLY??_

_Ugh_

_How am i supposed to_

_Yes_

_Why would i lie?_

_You dont_

_??????????????_

_I do_

_Watch it_

_Here’s proof_

_I mean you don’t lie_

_Fuck_

Indeed; _fuck_ , because Mark has sent him a picture. A screenshot of his screen. An undeniable, irrefutable piece of evidence that he's indeed watching footage of themselves from a year ago.

The screen shows Mark paused the video at 6:53, a year younger him was sitting beside a year younger Mark whose hair was brown and looking confused; eyes opened wide and mouth slightly ajar, a second away from breaking into a laugh. Xuxi knows this because he watched the video enough to remember what and when it happened. 

He in that video was in the middle of retelling their first meeting, back in the days when they were a lot younger. When they were sixteen. He still remembers how he had introduced himself, Korean all broken and accented. Still remembers how he was stressing over which reading of his name should be used; Yukhei or Xuxi.

In the end, everyone called him Xuxi because he's the only Cantonese speaker there and everyone else speak Mandarin, Mark included even if the boy could barely speak either language. Mark who couldn't believe they're the same age and was already so far out of his league back then. 

Mark still is, now. Mark's still beyond what he could reach. Mark only let him reached briefly back then with whatever they had between them but never was too far, unlike how deep Mark’s left, a huge chunk of him embedded down in Xuxi’s core. Stone stuck between tire and wheel; harmless but bothering him nonetheless as he goes on.

Xuxi in the video had touched Mark, had tasted the other boy. And like a man under a spell, he's enchanted. Maybe both of them were but unlike him, Mark has broken out of it a long time ago. Now he's left, alone under the magic, bewitched and too lost in it to have any will to break free.

He's still under it indeed because knowing that Mark is watching their vlive already got his heart speeding, far and fast into its imminent crash.

_I don’t_

_Why???_

He crashed too much already. 

_Why r u watching it_

_U rly_

_Yes u dont_

_???_

_Why cant i???_

_M not allowed to watch it now?_

_No_

_WHY??_

_?? what’s wrong with u?_

Swearing once again under his breath, Xuxi jumps off his bed, not minding anymore if he accidentally wakes up Sicheng (if he did, he will apologize) as he opens and then closes the door with a slight bang. He goes to the balcony where he knows he's safe, alone, and nobody but the night can hear him.

Not giving himself time to think, he presses the call button and waits.

"Wh-"

“Fuck it,” is the first thing he said, typically, just to keep the string of colorful words going. He can practically see the way Mark frowns in confusion.

He can see dozens of question mark popping above the other boy's head too, and indeed, Mark's voice is a choke full of them. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“No. I’m-” _wrong everywhere since I'm not with you and I don't fucking know what to do._

“I can’t watch us anymore, huh? Just because we’re not us anymore.”

“-didn’t, fuck, Mark Lee. Fuck it.”

“Fuck you too,” Mark spat, annoyed. Confused. Hurt. Xuxii just wants to be there right now with him, in Paris, smother Mark to his embrace and say he’s,

“Sorry, I didn't- that’s not what I mean, fuck, would you hear me out?”

“Stop speaking in codes,” mark huffs, sounding relatively calmer albeit still confused. “I told you I d-”

Startled, Xuxi cuts him, “codes? What codes? I’m not speaking code?” He might sound a little bit hysterical in the end, it’s not like he can help it. Mark’s accusing him to speak in code when he wasn’t; he’s just flustered, doesn’t know how to react at the fact that Mark, the one he’s been hung up to for a while now and has seemingly moved on merrily, is watching their v-live together. "I'm just-"

"-just can't believe I'm watching that? Can't believe I might remember?"

Xuxi, not trusting himself to be coherent enough to string together Korean words without sounding like he's speaking in cipher, answers simply. Honestly, "yeah."

Mark doesn't give him silence, doesn't give him time to be melancholic and romanticize his admittance. He gives him another, "why?" instead. 

Again, Xuxi can only give him another simple answer, "I don't know." Even if he knows, he fucking knows why he can't believe it. He fucking knows why he's reacting like this. He-

"You asked me."

A statement, not a question. Xuxi hates his idiotic self for wishing that Mark did it because he understands that Xuxi’s getting overwhelmed. Not just with the question but with having to explain himself without causing any misunderstanding.

He hates himself for always wishing, trying and always failing. He should have known better. This is a fight that he never won. Mark probably didn’t do that out of consideration for Xuxi, probably didn’t do that because Mark _knew_ Xuxi. Didn’t do that because Mark had learned and memorized every verse and chorus of the Chinese boy like he is Mark’s beloved, favorite song.

He might be. He was. Once. Back then when they were younger, back then when they still got their time. Back then when Mark had his eyes on Xuxi (while Xuxi always has his on Mark, still is, and will always. Always.) and borrowed Xuxi’s jacket just because he felt like it.

Even if he still is, Mark’s favorite song, he gotta be the nursery rhyme. He wished he is. Sweet and cherished, melody dear and darling sitting inside the trunk of fond childhood’s memory. A treasure, but when people grow older, they’re not gonna listen to nursery rhyme anymore.

For Mark, he’s precious, but he’s not gonna be Mark’s choice.

“Xuxi are you listening to me?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you; are you listening to me?” There was no sigh; of annoyance nor frustration. Just words repeated, slow and clear, loud like train’s announcement. Like Mark’s making sure that Xuxi listened and he won’t miss any single thing.

"I did,” he says, nods vigorously even if he knows Mark can’t see him. “Sorry. It’s a little cold out here.”

“You’re outside?”

“I am. Sicheng-ge is asleep. Don’t want to disturb him.”

“Oh,” Xuxi can hear the apology in Mark’s voice. He doesn’t have to, Xuxi’s the one who made the call. He’s the one at fault.

_See; it’s always his mistake._

“I wish he could be there, you know. With us, it’s his third year anniversary too,” Mark continues, sounding wistful. Sounding sad. Xuxi considers that impulsive plan of buying a ticket to Paris so he can comfort him, so he can rip that sorrow away from his beautiful voice.

“I wish too. But Gege understands. Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. We can’t do anything about it.”

“Like us?”

 _Oh._ Okay, that caught him off guard yet again. He didn’t expect that; the question, and Mark for once being bold about it. Technically, they’re not dating so there was never us between them. Even when Mark decided to call off whatever relationship they had, he only referred to it as this.

“Forget it,” Mark says suddenly, backpedaling. Realizing he’s entering dangerous territory. This was something they were always on a tightrope. This was the door they were too scared to open.

And now it’s opened, Xuxi won’t let it closed again. “There was us?”

Mark doesn’t say anything, leaving Xuxi with the silence. Leaving Xuxi with the tranquility of the night, it suffuses, cold and frigid into his weary bones, into his aching soul. There is no sound, safe for Mark’s faint breathing and the rustle of leaves, dancing in the wind.

When it’s clear that Mark isn’t going to say anything even if he obviously wants to say something since he leaves the phone on, Xuxi takes it to himself to speak, “you’re watching us.”

A little more silence, a little more moment of hesitation, but Xuxi will wait. He can. If it’s for Mark, he’d do it, as long as it takes for the other boy to take that leap of faith. "I'm watching _us_."

"Why?"

"Now it's my turn huh," a chuckle, less annoyance, more self-deprecating. Nonetheless, he answers. Simple and true. "I just, remember, I guess."

Xuxi finds it hard to breathe for Mark’s answer, that single drop of honesty, is too much to take. Too precious. Suffocating. A luscious gem of vulnerability entrusted to him, he has to return it. Masking his choke with a giggle, Xuxi admits, "I remembered it too this morning."

"Yeah, and you texted me,”

“I did, I-”

"I Remember,” Mark speaks calmer this time. Xuxi unconsciously tightens his grip on the phone, waiting with bated breath for Mark’s next words. “Always. I always remember that day. I always remember _us_."

_Oh._

"You know that people said they can hear me falling deeper with every laugh I made?"

Xuxi doesn’t know anything else to say except, "they said that?" Too numb to think of a more appropriate response. Too shellshocked to function properly. Overwhelmed and brimmed with feelings, with emotions.

"They said so."

With Mark Lee.

"They're not far off the truth."

And this time it’s positive, Xuxi can’t breathe. Maybe he doesn’t even. Doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t see. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t do anything but feel, so much and too much for the boy who is thousands of kilometers apart from him. For the boy who was once in his arms even if he was never his. For the boy he’s pretty much still in love with.

His voice is gone, nowhere to be found. But his heart is here, still in the same place, not moving, never moved from where it was when Mark left it behind. Not moving but still beating, faint yet strong, sure, valiantly struggling to survive until Mark comes back.

Waiting for the day when Mark picks it up and decide that maybe it’s time for him - _for them_ \- to be brave and fight for each other. For them.

Maybe the time is now.

“Mark,” Xuxi starts, voice small and feeble. Prays that Mark can hear it, his fear, his worry, his everything, and has enough mercy in his heart to wait for him. To wait for him to string his words together into a beautiful wreath of truth, of honesty that both of them deserve a long time ago. “It wasn’t far off the truth for me either.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I see.”

Another silence waltzes by, this time it’s less brisk and chilly, a little more delicate and friendly. Xuxi lets it fall around him, draping him in its gracious hospitality. 

“Xuxi?”

“Yes, Mark?”

“It’s late.”

“Oh.”

“You should sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Good night, Xuxi.”

“Good night, Mark.”

And that’s it. The line’s off. Mark’s gone, back thousands of miles away from him. Xuxi is left, alone, only the drape of courteous silence is left as his company. And the night scenery maybe, the gallantly standing tree, the peeping, glittering stars between the aloof clouds, the tenderly seeing moon. They’re all here for him, present, watching as he and his heart, previously dormant yet straining to survive, clambering back to live. Not completely whole but mended, still charred at some sides but relieved.

It wasn’t much, just Mark admitting that he was falling for Xuxi, once. It’s not like he doesn’t know that Mark had feelings for him that goes beyond friends and benefits, but after all the hush hush between them when it comes to the gravity of their actual feelings, such simple disclosure feels liberating. It’s like coming to an exotic place you could only see on the picture for the first time. You know it really exists but nothing compares to the actual experience.

He knows this doesn’t change anything either. The fact remains that Mark probably has moved on from him, finding something new to sketch while Xuxi is stuck at the same place, staring at the old canvas where the picture of him and Mark was.

He could have; asked Mark, if he missed him. _If you missed us,_ but he doesn’t, that’s not how they do it _. This._ Mark’s the one who set up the rule and Xuxi’s just machination for Mark’s desire in this game. As long as Mark doesn’t start anything, Xuxi won’t either. If all Mark’s going to give him is “ _I remember us”_ then that’s all Xuxi is allowed to have, nothing he has any right to ask.

It’s cowardice for both of them, it’s unhealthy. He knows. They have too many blanks left in their lines, too many questions marks unanswered, like a story left unfinished as the author moved on to another story. But Xuxi is still here, here with the same old painting, he remembers, everything; every stroke, every line, every color that bleed out of line. He remembers all the things they left, both unasked and unexplained. He knows all the words, swallowed by the rustle of the sheet and slapping of their skin.

He knows, got them written with an invisible tattoo on his skin, so when he meets Mark once again, hopefully with more courage and even some recklessness, he can ask them.

Huang Xuxi is just a man. He’s a fool, riddled with holes called a mistake. He’s made many mistakes in his life. Letting himself hope that he and Mark Lee can still mean to be included.


End file.
